Elvey and Combs stood staring at each other from across the street for a minute. Elvey, with an expression between dread and fury on his face, and Combs, with a faint smile on his face.
“I know how to end the snare,” he said, “I will end it as soon as I can, but then you have to put all this back in place. Deal?”
The other nodded, answering, “Deal.”
Quickly, Elvey turned and ran to a car that stood by the side of the road, partially covered in rubble.
He shoved the debris off, got in the car and, with hands shaking, got it started and drove off, winding his way through the wreckage in the street. Once past the main buildings, he looked through the rearview mirror.
Combs was standing in the middle of the street, staring after him.
He drove for half an hour at top speed, still visibly shaken. As he drove, the sky started getting darker; a shadow started from one end of the horizon and spread slowly around towards the other end. The stars were not visible. The shadow seemed to weigh down, making everything dim.
A parting in the road came, and Elvey came to an abrupt stop. He looked down the street.
At the end of the road, some houses were visible.
Quickly, Elvey turned and, again driving at top speed, went toward the houses.
He stopped at the first house, getting out and ran to the front door. He knocked and rang the doorbell at the same time.
There was no answer.
Elvey tried the door, but it was locked. He kicked it open and went in.
Looking around, he spotted a phone in the kitchen, and went toward it. Quickly, looking through the phonebook, he found the number he wanted and dialed it.
“I need to speak to Matthew Chandler, it’s very important,” he said quickly, “Is he there?”
The other person answered.
“It’s to do with that,” he said, “Chandler can help.” A long pause. “Thank you.”
Elvey looked around the house, and his eyes came to rest on a dog that was laying in the corner of the living room. His eyes opened wider.
“Patty?” He said, “What are you doing here?”
The dog quickly stood up and went to him, rubbing herself against his leg.
“I guess you’re just another tangle,” he muttered, patting her head.
A voice was heard on the phone, and he said, “I’m still here.”
A brief silence.
“Who’s speaking?” A new voice said.
“This is Terrance Elvey,” he spoke quickly, “I’m a friend of Rachel Hughes.” He paused for a second, and then continued, “Did you know Arthur Donaldson?”
“Mr. Elvey,” the other said, “I did know him, and he told me about you. But I don’t really think this is the right time –”
Elvey interrupted him.
“No, now is the only time,” he said, “I was supposed to tell you that… he buried it in the garden. I really hope you know what that means.”
“In the garden?” Chandler repeated, “Yes, I know what that means, and it’s the best news I’ve heard all day. Do you know what the garden is, Mr. Elvey?”
Elvey let out a sigh of relief.
“I think I do. It’s a computer sequence that transfers matter to a vast technological safehouse, by using Asgardian and human science. It was referred to as a garden because the layout resembles an Elizabethan garden,” he said, “I only heard of it as a theory, but I saw it actually done less than a day ago.”
“Where?”
“At Rosen’s.”
“Brilliant!” Chandler said, “I didn’t know they’d finished it.”
“But it needs a keyword to work, otherwise it’s useless,” Elvey said.
“That’s what I’m here for,” the other said, “The keyword is Woensdag.”
Elvey gulped.
“Can you repeat that?”
Chandler did.
“I don’t suppose you could tell me what’s going on,” Chandler said after a moment.
“No time,” Elvey said, “I have to go.”
Elvey hung up and turned to go, jumping back.
Rachel Hughes stood in the doorway, looking around.
“What’s happening?” She whispered, “Where did I go?”
“It’s reality,” Elvey said, “As I said, it’s collapsing. You… ceased to exist.”
Hughes looked at him.
“Then why did I come back?”
Elvey shook his head, saying, “You must be an echo… or a flicker. I am sorry. I have to go.”
“I’m coming with you,” she said, and went toward the car. Elvey followed.
“I’m sorry, but you’re going to flicker out again,” he said, starting the car and pulled out onto the road.
“What’s wrong with the sky?” Hughes said, making a face.
Elvey didn’t answer, driving on the way he’d been going.
“Where are we going now?”
“Rosen’s,” Elvey answered, “There’s little chance of me getting there before I cease to exist, but I have to try.”
They were silent for a minute, and then Hughes said, “Reality is crumbling; buildings and stuff are appearing out of nowhere, people are disappearing – but couldn’t you take advantage of that? I mean, why not trying to jump to a different location, if distance… and time… don’t work properly?”
“Interesting idea,” he muttered.
Elvey, stared at the road ahead, narrowing his eyes.
For several minutes nothing happened.
Suddenly, the road shortened, though their surroundings did not change. And ahead, looking far away, was Rosen’s.
Elvey gasped, put his foot on the gas, and a second later they were in the parking lot. Elvey stopped the car.
“It worked! That is terrifying!” He said, laughing, “I guess there’s some advantage to being timestream-sensitive.”
“What’s that?”
“It means I’m more aware of the passage of time than most people,” he said, getting out of the car, “I got here by thinking about when we’d get here, and since time is in a jumble, that meant we were here.”
“What happens next?” Hughes asked, following him to the building.
“First, I try to get into the garden. Then… I get Liam.”
Homespun Tabby 